Someone Still Loves You

by brokenimage321

40. Domesticity

“Mom?” Rainbow breathed, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Scootaloo almost choked on her chili carrot. She swallowed, with effort, then turned in her seat and scanned the restaurant. In the crowded chaos of the diner, it was impossible to pick out any one pony—

But then, the crowd parted, and, for the first time in her life, Scootaloo laid eyes on her grandmother.

She stood a short distance away, a takeout bag balanced carefully on her back. Her coat was the same sky-blue as Rainbow’s, though her mane and tail were both a dull, reddish-orange. And her eyes—those were the same eyes that Scootaloo had spent so much of her life hoping, aching, would turn her way. To see them in another’s face… well, it would have been almost offensive, if it had been any other pony than she.

Despite the crowd, the mare’s gaze was laser-focused on Rainbow. She stood with knees bent, head slightly downward—almost cowering. And yet, her eyes were bright and hopeful.

Her lips moved, her voice so quiet that Scootaloo might not have heard it even if the diner were silent. And yet, she had no doubt what she was saying:

“Rainy?” came the trembling whisper. “Is that really you?”

“Mom!” Rainbow cried, scrambling up and out of her booth. She galloped towards her, nearly knocking a waitress over, and grabbed her mother in a fierce bear hug. Her mother returned the hug, the bag of takeout spilling, unnoticed, to the floor.

Rainbow and her mother both started to cry—ugly cry—right in the middle of the restaurant. Scootaloo looked away, embarrassed—but then, she grew embarrassed of her own embarrassment. After all, wouldn’t she do the same if Mrs. Harbour were to walk through the door right now…?

...but then again… would she? Mrs. Harbour had been Scootaloo’s anchor for nearly her entire life… but now, it seemed, she had a new anchor…

Scootaloo eyed the plastic tray in front of her, then scooped up her half-finished milkshake and slipped off her seat. She tip-hoofed towards the blubbering Rainbow, and stood behind her. Unsure of what else to do, she took another long draw from her milkshake and watched the two mares. To her mild consternation, Rainbow’s tears showed now sign of slowing down.

Scootaloo continued to sip at her shake until, unexpectedly, it ran dry. Scootaloo looked down at it indignantly, then sucked at the straw to get the last little bit of shake that still hid in the corners of the cup. The sharp sucking noise must have their attention, because the other mare pricked up her ears. She wiped her eyes and looked down at Scootaloo. She examined her curiously for a moment—but then, her eyes jerked down to the floor, towards the expanding puddle of chili around all of their hooves.

“Oh, horsefeathers,” she said, a faint maternal whine in her voice. “I spilled lunch…”

Rainbow hiccupped, then giggled. “I’ll buy ya another one,” she said.

The mare shook her head. “No,” she said, “it’s my fault—”

“Nuh-uh,” insisted Rainbow. “You wouldn’t a’—if I hadn’t—”

One of the cooks, a big, burly stallion, stepped up to the counter. “Don’t worry about it, Windy,” he said, his voice gruff, but kind. “On the house.”

“Oh!” the mare—Windy, apparently—squeaked. She grabbed Rainbow around the shoulders and turned her to face the cook. “Shorty,” she said excitedly, “it’s Rainbow. She’s back.”

Shorty’s eyes widened. “No kiddin’?” he asked Windy. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Rainbow’s hoof and shook it. “Short Order,” he introduced himself. “Good t’see you again! Your Mom and Dad have been comin’ in here once or twice a week since—”

“—since before I was born,” Rainbow interjected, smiling.

Shorty looked around. “Lemme get the rest a’ the kitchen out here, so they can—”

“Maybe later, Shorty?” Windy interrupted. “Bow’s still waiting for lunch—and I’m sure Rainbow wants to see him as badly as he wants to see her.” She looked over at Rainbow. “You’re coming home, right?” she asked.

Scootaloo opened her mouth, but Rainbow beat her to the punch.

“Y-yeah!” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Of course!”

“Well, then,” Shorty said brightly, “One Windy Whistles Special, on the house.” He passed Windy another paper bag of food, which she took and balanced on her back again. “Just make sure to bring her back here, okay? I know Deep Fry’d want to say hi, too—”

“Of course,” Windy said, smiling. She took Rainbow by the hoof, and started walking to the exit. “I just can’t wait to see the look on your father’s face,” she said excitedly. “Why, he kept your room exactly the way you left it, all these years! I wanted to turn it into an art studio—no sense letting that extra room go to waste—but he insisted that you’d be back one day, and you’d want it just the same! He never even picked up your socks off the floor—!”

As Rainbow and her mother began to vanish into the crowd, an alarm bell went off in Scootaloo’s brain. She’s leaving you again—!

But, before she could really panic, Rainbow looked back over her shoulder at Scootaloo, a mixture of hope and fear in her eyes. Scootaloo took a step towards her--but her eyes went wide. She turned, ran back to their table, scooped up her chili carrot, and shoved it into her mouth. She looked around, then dashed after Rainbow and her mom, dribbling chili on the floor as she ran.

---

“Oh, he’s going to be so excited!” Windy was saying. “He’s going to bring all the neighbors around, and throw a party, and—

Rainbow shot an uneasy look back over her shoulder at Scootaloo, who was following close behind her. Windy had led them away from the downtown area and towards the suburbs of Cloudsdale—luckily for Scootaloo, a short enough distance that they didn’t need to fly—and hadn’t stopped talking the entire time. She’d barely even stopped to breathe for the last ten minutes. Scootaloo was starting to get a little worried—given that Windy was already blue in the face, how were they going to tell when she was finally about to pass out?

As they walked down the streets, Rainbow began to brighten. Several times, she was on the verge of calling out as she spotted some familiar landmark, or perhaps a long-lost friend from her childhood, but Windy’s endless commentary kept her from doing so. Nevertheless, it was clear that, for her at least, the two of them were travelling back in time: the further they walked, the wider Rainbow’s eyes became, and the more she looked around in starry-eyed wonder.

Finally, they made one final turn, and Rainbow stopped dead in her tracks, so suddenly that Scootaloo bumped into her hind legs. She looked up at Rainbow, ready to snap at her, but she saw Rainbow’s eyes filling up with tears.

They stood at the corner of a little cul-de-sac, no more than five houses deep. But Scootaloo knew, without even having to ask—this was where her mother had grown up. This little knot of homes had been her whole world for years. And, for the first time in a decade, she was home.

Windy pranced on for another few strides before she realized she was alone. She fell silent—finally—then turned to look back at Rainbow quizzically.

“Well, come on!” she cried. “We don’t want to keep your dad waiting now, do we?”

Rainbow didn’t move. She just stood there, swallowing hard, trying to work past the knot in her throat. Scootaloo looked from her, to an increasingly-concerned Windy, and back again. She growled to herself, then head-butted Rainbow from behind.

“C’mon,” she groaned. “She’s waiting…”

Rainbow looked back at her, startled, then faced forward again. She gulped, then took a single, halting step onto her childhood street. She took another, then another—and slowly, her walk grew easier. By the time she had closed the distance to Windy, her gait could have almost been mistaken for normal--were it not for the fact that she was trembling like a leaf in the wind.

Rainbow and her mother—with Scootaloo trailing behind—made their way to an unassuming house at the end of the cul-de-sac. There was nothing to distinguish it from the other houses, save for a few small touches of rainbow stripes here and there, but it wasn’t hard to tell it was their destination. And, indeed, Windy steered Rainbow up the walk, across the lawn, and up to the front porch.

Windy pushed open the door without preamble. “Bow!” she cried. “You won’t believe it! The most amazing thing—!”

Rainbow followed her mother into the house, then turned back and looked at Scootaloo. “C’mon,” she choked out, her voice already hoarse. Scootaloo scampered after her, and Rainbow pushed the door shut behind her with one of her hind legs.

“Bow? Bow?” Windy called. “Bow, where are you?”

And, exactly on cue, a stallion stepped out of a side room and into the entryway. He had some scruffy stubble on his chin, and his coat was a dull blue, but there was no mistaking who he was: he sported a rainbow-striped mane, just like his daughter, and had the same sort of easy confidence in his stance. When he saw Rainbow, he froze in his tracks and stared at her, wide-eyed.

“Rainey’s back,” Windy added, unnecessarily.

Bow and Rainbow stood staring at each other for a long minute—so long, in fact, that Rainbow cocked her head.

“Daddy?” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Dad, it’s me…”

And yet, Bow stayed where he was, as still as a statue.

Rainbow bit her lip and her shoulders slumped. She nearly turned away—but then, she heard a sniffle.

She looked back up at Bow, only to find that tears were streaming freely down his face.

“Dad,” she began—

Her father lunged towards her and grabbed her in a hug so fierce it nearly knocked the wind out of her. Bow buried his face in her shoulder and started bawling like a baby. Windy stepped forward and took the two of them in a hug. And all three ponies wept, wept for the memory of ten painful years apart, and for joy that, finally, they were over.

* * *

Scootaloo sat on the couch, kicking her hooves idly back and forth, and wishing she still had some of that milkshake left. She eyed Rainbow and her parents across the room, where they sat, together, on the opposite couch. Paper plates of half-finished chili carrots sat on the coffee table, in between stacks of photo albums and framed pictures.

“Sunflower?” Rainbow cried. “Sunflower’s still working at Cloudmart? She was doing that in high school…”

“Uh-huh!,” Windy said excitedly. “Her mom said she’s actually quite happy there. Been promoted all the way up to General Manager. But she still spends most of her time in the Lawn and Garden section…”

“Of course she would,” Rainbow said.

Bow, beside them, let out a little chuckle. He wrapped his arm around Rainbow’s shoulders and squeezed her tight—something he’d been doing about every five or six minutes since they’d sat down.

It had been at least an hour since Rainbow and Scootaloo first set hoof in the house, and Rainbow had spent the majority of that time telling her parents about what she had been doing for the past decade. But, just as Scootaloo thought the conversation was nearly over, it suddenly pivoted--and now Rainbow’s parents were updating her on everything that had happened while she’d been gone.

“And Old Mrs. Weathervane?” Rainbow asked. “She still kicking?”

“Yep,” Bow replied. “And I still help her with the trash.”

Rainbow giggled. “She used to give me half a bit every week for doing that,” she said.

Bow nodded. “I know,” he replied. “She still tries to pay me, despite me telling her every time that I do it because I want to help.”

Windy shook her head. “I keep telling you, Bow,” she said, “she doesn’t want to feel like a burden. It makes her feel better to give you a little something.”

Bow sighed. “I know,” he admitted. “But, all she has is her late husband’s pension, and I don’t want to take that away from her…”

Scootaloo didn’t blame Rainbow for wanting to catch up with her folks. After all, they’d been apart for as long as Scootaloo had been alive. Longer, even. It was just that it was taking so darn long! They had been here over an hour, and somehow hadn’t even noticed the strange filly sitting on their couch opposite them. And said strange filly was starting to get rather bored…

Windy let out a little gasp. “Oh! I never asked,” she said. “What were you doing in Cloudsdale today? Whenever you visit, you usually go straight to the Cloudiseum...”

Rainbow started, then glanced guiltily at Scootaloo—it seemed almost like she’d forgotten she was sitting there.

“Well,” she said slowly, “we came up here today to take her to the doctor’s.” She gestured at Scootaloo. “A specialist,” she added.

Both Bow and Windy looked at Scootaloo. Windy jumped a little, and Bow stared at her in confusion.

“Excuse me, but…” Windy asked, cocking her head. “Who are you?”

Scootaloo opened her mouth, but Rainbow beat her to the punch.

“Mom, Dad,” Rainbow said, with the slightest tremble in her voice, “I’d like you to meet Scootaloo...” She placed a hoof on both of their knees. “...your granddaughter,” she finished.

Windy looked at Rainbow in alarm, and Bow just blinked stupidly at Scootaloo. Scootaloo herself squirmed in her seat and looked away.

Suddenly, both Windy and Bow stood and advanced on her. Scootaloo let out a sudden, panicked squeal, but before she could escape, Bow and Windy had snatched her up in one of their trademark bone-crushing hugs. Scootaloo shrieked and tried to wriggle free, but that just made them squeeze her harder.

“I’m a grandma!” squeaked Windy.

“Welcome to the family, kiddo,” Bow said gleefully.

At his words, Scootaloo stopped squirming. Welcome to the family. Those simple words stirred something deep inside her. Living with Rainbow, it was just the two of them. No siblings, no cousins, no grandparents, none of the things that Sweetie or Apple Bloom meant when they said “Family.”

And now, she was starting to realize, in some small way, why the two of them treasured those relationships so much.

Scootaloo would have hugged her grandparents back—that is, if they weren’t already pinning her arms to her side.

* * *

Windy dramatically lifted the lid from the baking dish, and a cloud of steam billowed out, revealing a heap of roasted broccoli. Rainbow closed her eyes, breathed in the aroma, and sighed happily.

The four of them sat round the dinner table, their plates already cleaned from their earlier helpings of salad and rolls. Scootaloo discovered that she and her grandpa had the same taste in salad dressing (Neightalian, on the side), and that her grandmother liked to pick pieces off her roll and eat them one at a time, just like she herself did.

The four o’clock zeppelin to Ponyville had left a long time ago, but Scootaloo didn’t really care. Sure, with all the hugging, her ribcage was going to be sore in the morning, but she was discovering why everyone fussed about going to their grandparents’ for the weekend. Turned out, Grandpas were kinda cool—and hot damn, Grandmas could cook.

After the broccoli was all dished out (Scootaloo picked the sliced almonds off of hers, then noticed that Bow was doing the same), they ate in silence for a few minutes. Scootaloo cleared her plate in record time: Mrs. Harbour had never really served broccoli at home, claiming it didn’t agree with her digestion. That might have been true, but Scootaloo was still delighted to find that she had a new favorite vegetable. She eyed the baking dish, and Windy, to her right, nodded encouragement.

“You can have seconds, if you want,” she said. “That’s what it’s there for, after all—to fill hungry bellies!”

Scootaloo smiled, then stood on her chair and took the serving spoon in her teeth. She ladled another serving of broccoli onto her plate, then sat down and dug in.

Windy watched her for a moment with a smile on her face—then, something occurred to her, and she frowned.

“You said you went to the doctor’s today?” she asked.

Scootaloo looked up, her mouth full of broccoli, then nodded.

“What for?”

Scootaloo shrank back into her seat. Across the table, Rainbow sighed.

“We went to the flight specialist,” she said. “We wanted him to take a look at her wings.”

“Why?” Windy asked. “Is something wrong?”

Scootaloo hung her head, the broccoli in her mouth turning to mud.

“Yeah,” Rainbow said slowly. “She’s… having trouble getting the hang of flying. Always has. The doctor took a look at her, then said she has…” Rainbow screwed up her face in concentration. “A-tear… a-tear-whatsit…”

Windy gasped, dropped her fork, and pressed both hooves to her mouth. “Apterisis?” she squeaked.

Rainbow nodded glumly. “Yeah,” she replied. “A pretty bad case, apparently.”

Bow put his fork down and leaned forward. “Have you thought about steroids?” he asked urgently. “Did wonders for that kid down the block, what’s-his-name…”

Rainbow shook her head. “Doc said that won’t help,” she said. “It’s not just her muscles, it’s her bones, too…”

“Are you gonna get a second opinion?” Bow asked, just as urgently.

Rainbow shrugged noncommittally, and Bow pounded on the table.

“C’mon, Rainbow!” he barked, sounding almost like a drill sergeant, “Don’t give up now! She’s your daughter, for Celestia’s sake!”

Meanwhile, Windy leaned over and pulled Scootaloo in for a hug. “Don’t worry, honey,” she murmured, “we’ll take care of you. You won’t miss out on a thing, just because your body is being difficult…”

As Windy squeezed her tight against herself, Scootaloo understood why, exactly, Rainbow might have wanted to run away from home. But then again… she’d never really had someone in her corner before. Someone rooting for her as she took on the world. And suddenly, she realized why Rainbow might have wanted to come back.

* * *

Windy slowly eased the bedroom door shut, then gently released the doorknob. As soon as the latch clicked shut, she let out a sigh.

“Little one’s out like a light,” she said to Rainbow. “Probably going to stay that way ‘til morning.” She hesitated the slightest bit. “You sure you’re okay with staying overnight?”

Rainbow nodded. “It’s too dark to fly back now,” she said. “And besides, I don’t want to wake her up if I don’t have to.”

Windy smiled, then patted her fondly on the shoulder. “I’ll go make up the couch for you, then,” she said.

As Windy padded down the hallway and around the corner, Bow put an arm around her shoulder.

“She’s a good kid,” he said.

Rainbow nodded. “Yeah, she is. She has a couple rough edges, but she’s good.”

“Hey,” Bow replied, punching her fondly on the shoulder, “so do you.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Y’know, I’ve never seen someone get so tired out from a game of slapjack,” he said. “She must have had a really long day.”

Rainbow smiled. “Well, I don’t think she was prepared for how we play it,” she said.

Bow chuckled. “Yeah,” he said, “I think we’re going to have to re-institute the ‘no shoulder-checking’ rule.” He smiled. “Your mom has always enjoyed her cards a little too much.”

“You can say that again,” said Rainbow.

They stood in silence outside the guest bedroom for a few moments, then Bow cracked a grin.

“Hey,” he said, “you wanna see something neat?”

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” she said.

Bow turned and led her down the hallway, towards the door at the end. As they drew closer, Rainbow’s eyes widened. Taped to the door was a crooked, sun-bleached Wonderbolts poster.

“You didn’t,” she said.

“Yep,” Bow said proudly, as he pushed the door open. He stepped back and waited as Rainbow stepped through the door, and backwards in time.

Rainbow reached for the light switch, her muscles remembering exactly where it was. The light clicked on, and Rainbow let out a little gasp. She looked around in wonder at her old bedroom—exactly the way she had left it—down to the homework scattered over the desk, and the messy, unmade bed.

“Wow,” she breathed. “I thought Mom was joking…”

“Yep,” Bow said. “It was quite a fight trying to convince her to leave it alone. She loves you, never doubt it, but I think she would have rather swept everything under the rug, pretend nothing happened…” He sighed. “Plus, you know how much she’s always wanted a space of her very own. It was as convenient an excuse as any.” He smiled. “But I knew you’d be back one day. I just knew it.”

Rainbow swept her gaze across the room, taking it all in. All the old posters hung on the wall (the entire Wonderbolts roster from when she was fifteen—two or three of them autographed, even). The hoofmade Wonderbolts costume that still poked out of the closet (She had wanted to wear it for Nightmare Night, but, when Nightmare Night rolled around, she had been too big to fit in it). The stack of magazines nearly spilling off her bookshelf (which she had mostly read for the stunt routines; she had glanced at one or two of the articles, but she had been more interested in the pictures). Slowly, she worked her way to the bed and sat down, instinctively avoiding the squeaky spot. She took a deep breath, then let out a long, slow sigh.

Bow watched her for a moment. He had a faint smile on his face, but the smile slowly faded. Slowly, he crept across the room, then sat down on the bed beside Rainbow. He sighed and hung his head.

“Hey, Rainy?” he said, his voice hushed.

Rainbow looked over at him. “Yeah?”

Bow pressed his forehooves together. “Why did you leave?” he asked, in the same, hushed voice.

Rainbow froze. And, for just a moment, she was back—back then. Back when she’d knocked over the trash can, or broken a window, or failed a test. Back when the greatest punishment in the world was that sad, timid tone of voice, the one that said that it was he, not her, who had made the mistake.

It took her several seconds to get her thoughts together.

“Well,” she said finally, “I was pregnant, for one thing.” She flopped back on her bed. “I know you and Mom had hopes for me,” she said to the ceiling. “You wanted me to be a colt, so I could be a hoofball star. When I came out a filly, you changed your mind—now I was going to be the head of the Flight Planning Division, maybe even the Mayor of Cloudsdale. When I grew up a tomboy, you threw your whole weight behind me and my flying career.” She looked over at her dad. “And then, I did something dumb. I got knocked up. Then, I couldn’t be anything.”

Bow looked over at her. “I know we put a lot of pressure on you… and I’m sorry,” he added in his tiny voice. “But you got what you wanted… you’re a Wonderbolt, after all…”

“Barely,” she scoffed. “And it took me a decade to get that far. When you’re a dumb, scared teenager with a ticking time bomb in your belly, it’s hard looking that far ahead.” She took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I didn’t want to disappoint you,” she said, her voice suddenly thick. “You had all these dreams… and I did, too… but I couldn’t stand breaking your heart all over again…”

Bow looked over at her. “Rainy,” he said, “you couldn’t disappoint me.”

Rainbow looked away.

Bow sighed. “Sweetie,” he said, “I knew you were pregnant.”

“You knew?” Rainbow yelped, sitting halfway up.

“I knew,” he said. “You know us—your mom and I miss a lot. But I figured it out, eventually. I didn’t tell anyone. At least, not at first. I—I told your Mom after you left, but I didn’t say anything, because…” he gulped, a sorrowful sound in the quiet. “I figured this was the sort of thing that you would come to talk to us about, when you were ready… but, well…” he gave a miserable little shrug. “You know how that turned out.”

Rainbow put a hoof on his arm. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, almost pleading.

“Didn’t you?” he asked. “You were gone for a long time…”

She shook her head. “I thought it’d be easier on everyone if I wasn’t around,” she said. “If I could be my own pony. If I could be a big girl, and take care of this all on my own.”

Bow looked at her. “That’s not how family works, sweetie,” he said. “We help each other. And we gotta—we gotta stick together.”

He turned away and rubbed at his eyes. “We heard about you,” he said. “Didn’t take too long, actually—no more than a couple years. But your mom and I talked about it, and we decided to trust you. We knew you’d come back, when you were ready. And… and we didn’t want to force it.” He sniffled to himself. “Thought that might have been part of the problem in the first place,” he added. “That we were too involved in your life. We did it out of love… but we thought, since you were a young mare now, maybe… maybe you didn’t need that anymore.”

Rainbow sat up the rest of the way, then turned to stare at her father. She watched him for a moment, then leaned over and wrapped an arm around him.

“You want to know something, Dad?” she asked. “I wasn’t planning on ever coming back. I thought it’d be easier if you just… forgot about me.”

Bow sniffled again.

“But, today, when I saw Mom in the restaurant…” She shook her head slowly. “All that fell away. All I wanted, in that moment, was to be held again by someone who loved me.”

“You have Scootaloo,” Bow muttered.

“You know what I mean,” she said. “It was my memories of the two of you that brought me back. That helped me remember how awesome family can be.” She squeezed him a little tighter. “And I’m never giving that up again.”

Bow’s ears perked up. “Never-ever?” he asked.

She shrugged. “No promises. Life happens,” she admitted. “But I’m sure as shit gonna try.”

Bow smiled, then returned her hug. “That’s the Rainbow I remember,” he said.

They hugged each other tight for maybe a minute--until a thought occurred to Rainbow. She let go of Bow and sat up.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you, um…” She hesitated, suddenly feeling foolish.

“What’s up, Honey?”

Rainbow swallowed. “Do you… do you know where I can get the paperwork? To adopt Scootaloo, I mean?”

Bow blinked. “You really want to do that?” he asked.

Rainbow nodded. “Uh-huh. I think we’re most of the way there already. Just gotta make it official.”

Bow nodded, too. “Sounds like a plan,” he murmured. “You can probably go by town hall, and they can help you--though it might be better to wait until you get back to Ponyville to do it. He shrugged. “It’d probably be easier to talk to people closer to home.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow admitted with a little chuckle.

Bow hesitated, then reached over and took her hoof in his.

“I’m excited for you, Rainy,” he said. “You deserve her. And she deserves you.”

Rainbow smiled, then wiped at her eyes. Bow chuckled, too, then sighed and looked around the darkened bedroom. After a moment, he suddenly sat up.

“Yowza,” he said, nodding at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late! We have to get you to bed if you’re gonna fly out of here first thing. Let’s go check on how Mom’s doing.”

He stood up and walked to the door, but paused on the threshold. He turned back and swallowed nervously.

“Rainy?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“I know you’re a grown-up now,” he said hesitantly. “And I know you have your own life. And you’re probably busy, what with work, and the Wonderbolts, and Scootaloo, and all. So… I think we’ll let you decide how much you want us in your lives. But…” His eyes glistened. “Sunday dinner is at six-thirty. This week, I think we’re trying ratatouille, and I’ll be making some fresh bread to go with it.” He hesitated. “Should we set an extra couple plates?”

Rainbow grinned, then wiped at her eyes. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, that’d be great, Dad.”

Comments

[Rawislon03]

I’m glad I was wrong about my last comment.

[Level Dasher]

Aww. If it had been mentioned earlier in the story, I didn’t remember that Rainbow had run away. If her main reason was because she was pregnant, I can see that— I’ve heard of it happening before. Nice to see that she (and Scoots) came back to open arms, though. Now we’ll see what kind of spoilings Bow and Windy will have in store for their new granddaughter.

[LightningChaser04]

10778376
Heh, I bet Windy’s already brought out an album for Scootaloo, and Bow’s ordered a Best Mom Ever and Best Granddaughter Ever trophy for them hehe.

But, I think Scootaloo will accept Rainbow’s offer to adopt her. But expect a million “Can we visit Grandma and Grandpa?” requests from Scootaloo, to get away from her mom for a while XD